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2033 Olympics: Opening Ceremonies
The Swordfish - Coliseum This massive, circular room serves as the central arena for the Swordfish, allowing it to host numerous games and events. Like the rest of the ship, this area is made of a white substance that /looks/ more like stone than metal, although whatever it is, it seems to serve well enough to hold the ship together. The richly carved stadium is lined with row upon row of standard seating, with several more luxurious balconies for the wealthier passengers. The stadium floor is sunken, and can be flooded for naval battles, or re-arranged to serve other purposes. Frequently, pit traps, nets, trip-wires and lasers provide additional challenge to any warriors or racers in the competition area below. Contrail is examining the arena flood controls and generally being shady. Every now and then, she looks over at Motormaster. Dead End continues to stand in line, occasionally glancing back to where Motormaster is sitting. He sighs, he'll just have to wait until the Olympics to start for his chance to slink back into obscurity. Amber MacKenzie returns from her tour of the Swordfish. The ship itself isn't all that impressive, basically a five-star hotel in space, but the wide variety of people still astounds her. She skillfully dodges the oversized ones and occasionally pauses to listen to those who speak a recognizable language. Hubcap drifts amiably amongst the crowd, and only someone paying close attention would notice that some people get more /significant/ nods than others, or more warmth to handshakes. Oddly, they seem to be people that he spends less time chatting to. His Windscreen is also flashing the Autobot logo proudly, with occasional well-chosen pictures of the registered Autobot Olympiads. An alien goes up to Dead End. "Congratulations! You're the Olypmic's 100 Quintillionth visitor!" Balloons and confetti appear out of nowhere and shower the poor Stunticon! Dead End stand at the counter about to order food and just blinks. He looks around and the down at the alien, 'I... what?" First Aid has arrived. Grimlock has arrived. Avarice has left. Motormaster was sitting and waiting for Dead End to bring him back food. His optics narrow now and then as he notices other Bots or Cons. He clenches his jaw now and then, looking at Dead End then looking at the few Cons he sees. Outrun arrives from the The Swordfish - Casino. Outrun has arrived. Redshift has arrived. Cyclonus is currently practicing his speech in the rec room for athletes. He paces about, holding a sheet of cyberpaper in front of himself, his voice booming. "And so I beseech you, braaaaave Decepticons, go forth, and claim glory! Go forth, and claim victory! Go forth, and claim GALVATRON!" He pauses. "Oh, bother, I botched it again." An alien janitor complains, "Hey, buddy, could ya keep it down?" "Silence, worm! You do not command me!" Cyclonus snaps back, and goes about practicing again. Scorn has arrived. Contrail finally gives up on studying the flood mechanism and decides that she ought to study the crowd. There is a high roller or two, but most of them are more on the peon side. The human gets her attention, though, and she transforms to snap a picture. Flipping into a modified F-35B Lightning II, the sky is not the limit. Contrail transmits an image of Amber MacKenzie. "Someone confirm this human's identity for me." Squishies all look the same and keep changing their clothes! Wiretap says, "Searching..." Wiretap says, "Reticulating Spines.." Cyclonus says, "Nnnnh. Don't bother. Amber MacKenzie. A human who, shall we say, likes to box above her weight class." Dead End says, "Wouldn't know her if I saw her. All humans look the same, I don't know how they tell themselves apart." Contrail says, "Oh, that one! I thought it might be. That one is a Witwicky-class threat." Scorn says, "Is she? I thought she just took pictures of stuff." Contrail says, "Oh yes, taking pictures of stuff is /extremely/ dangerous." Cyclonus says, "Oh, no, it is far worse than that. She actively sabotages our every effort when our backs turn!" Wiretap says, "You can check with the Reflectors about the value of long-range photography." Scorn says, "Mm, well, I just hope she gets me good side. Which is all of them~" Amber MacKenzie doesn't bother to take pictures in the usual sense; the press should already be overloading the airwaves with pictures from the Olympics. No, she waits for a more special occasion. Even so, the aliens are distracting; there are so many of them! She watches the interactions between them and guesses at what they mean. Despite her blase expression, she's as tickled at seeing them as any human child. Contrail says, "Her file indicates an 87% chance this human will, at some point, run between some Decepticon's legs to escape and bring shame upon us." Dead End seems to be preoccupied with the oddness going on at the Reploid Grill, waving away balloons and arguing awkwardly with a much smaller, overly cheerful alien. Cyclonus says, "I swear, we never have enough Casseticons on hand when humans like her are about." So, somehow or another, Grimlock is the ranking Autobot present. THis...is never a good thing. He tromps into the Coliseum- or, rather, one of the 'waiting rooms,'- no doubt some clever stagehand has directed him there to where he can't cause any lasting damage. Yet. "Hnn, first part of Olympics always boring. Always lots of flags and stuffs 'fore us can start punching stuff." Wiretap says, "Reccomend assigning units Laserbeak and Buzzsaw to observe and interdict upon specified human target." First Aid strolls in along with Grimlock. "I always like the first part," he replies, looking up at the big guy, "You get to meet so many fascinating people, hear what they have to say about fair play and sportsmechship, and otherwise relax. It's a nice change away from the usual war and strife that we normally have to deal with." Aid looks to his left and sees a kiosk where an alien is selling T-Shirts with all your favorite Transformers on it. The Alien hands Dead End a package. It's clearly the kind that contains, if opened, several specialty energon products. "Enjoy!" Fusillade has arrived. Fusillade has left. Fusillade has arrived. Motormaster stands slowly up to see what's going on with Dead End, then sees First Aid and Grimlock off in the distance. His optics narrow at them and he shifts restlessly as he keeps himself from going up to them and starting something. Grapple has arrived. F-35B Lightning II transforms back to robot mode after successfully determining that Amber MacKenzie is present. She drifts a bit closer over to Grimlock. Maybe Grimlock will slip up and say something important. In a transformation that is harder than it looks, Contrail rises up into robot mode. Outrun is leaning on the wall, next to the passage that leads to the casino, which happens to be his favorite place on this ship. The autobot special op his holding an ener-martini in his hand, taking a sip from time to time while he observes the gathering. Wiretap says, "Priority-target Franklin Cross is too preoccupied to attend the ceremonies." Wiretap says, "Maintaining communication surveillance." Loadout has actually never been to these galactic olympics before, go figure. Spending millions of years in stasis will tend to cause you to miss out on the latest and greatest 'big' things. So this is all a little new to him...not that alien species are totally new. Cybertronians are accustomed to encountering other aliens of course. But still, Loadout wasn't exactly all that chuffed about the idea of a bunch of games involving alot of beating the living snot out of each other. That is until he met some of the Swiffertans of Crisco-4, the undisputed cleanest planet in the entire known galaxy. What followed was a long in depth discussion about personal hygiene and cleanliness the likes of which had never been seen, Loadout chatting away amiably with what looked like some sort of giant humanoid alien whose features couldn't be made out because he was bundled in some techno-super bio hazard suit. Contrail says, "He's probably doing something /useful/." "Mm, despite our differences, I can't agree with you more, First Aid." Scorn hisses softly while moving in after him and Grimlock, making sure to shove any lessers out of her way, though she does seem to lean a bit too close into the medic's personal bubble as she passes. Sure, she wants to gut ever Bot in this room, but a treaty is a treaty, and she'll honor it for now. "Ah, an entire, special gathering where all the world tunes in to watch the Decepticon empire bring home the gold. And watch me, of course." The femme chuckles softly, sitting on a nearby bench and pulling out a handheld buffer, clicking it on and starting to polish already shiny green armor. Hubcap frowns slightly at the chatter he's intercepting (subtle reminder) and glances over at Amber. Yeah, it's a cease-fire event, but best to be on guard, just the same. Approaching the Junkion delegation, he beams his 'charming-but-sincerely-friendly' smile at them. "Ahoy-hoy," Sit-Com says to Hubcap, "Nanoo nanoo. The best to you each morning." Dead End takes the box from the alien and stares at it. Amid angry customers behind him complaining, he shoves the box in a chest compartment and puts in Motormaster's order. Stepping aside to make way for other customers, the Stunticon stands by the edge of the counter and just waits. Dead End begins to fidget a little as he becomes acutely aware of his leader's approach. As Scorn steps in, Grimlock unconsciously steps closer, putting himself between the medic and the Insecticon, and raising one hand up to strike her a crippling blow...but then, he realizes- oh yeah, truce. "Hnf." Grimlock rumbles. "Me Grimlock no liking Olympics already. Is better when us no pretend, and just do REAL fightings. And stuff." he grunts, and flexes his fingers, no doubt wishing he could be crushing Decepticon armor right now. He's good at that. Grapple doesn't say a word as he quietly makes his way in to the room. He doesn't seem to be wary or on guard, but seems to be.. Intrigued. Grapple simply looks at everything, particularly the decorations. He seems to be steering clear of just about everyone. Amber MacKenzie is addressed, to her surprise, by a ten-foot tall, six-footed panda-like alien in perfect British English. The creature gushes on and on about how delightful it is to be here for the Olympics, and that it has business concerns on Earth, and that it finds human beings fascinating, and that one of its relatives will be competing, and that... Amber manages to slip a word in edgewise, warmly welcoming whoever to Earth, congratulating him, her, or it on its business dealings and that its cousin is participating. Cyclonus paces about some more in the rec room. Everyone else has left because they can't stand his booming voice. "...will you let down your comrades? Shall the Autobots shame you into submission? Or will you prevail, and turn victory into defeat!" He blinks. "Oh, blast it, I got it wrong again..." Sighing, he flips his cyberpapers back to the first page. Ultra Magnus has arrived. Ultra Magnus arrives on an auxillary shuttle. Clattering in, Fusillade pumps both fists in the archway, emitting an unabashed 'whoooooooooooo!'. "I totally MISSED this last year!" She galumphs down the nearest set of stadium stairs, chattering in excitement about the forcefield generators and just how much they can withdtand and how things would be much more interesting this year with the tighter quarters. Hack and Slash dutifully trudge along, bedecked in Mardi Gras-teroid headdresses. "But think of all the things we can be doing /other/ than fighting," First Aid says to Grimlock, "There's food, there's activities, there's a chance to meet people you've never met before... heck, it's even kind of nice to be able to see a Decepticon without having to instinctively reach for your sidearm. You know what I mean?" As Scorn pulls up, First Aid nods, "Case in point. Hello, Scorn. So which do you prefer? Olympics or no Olympics?" "What if me Grimlock -like- reaching for gun and smashing Septi-cons?" Grimlock's speaking to First Aid, even though he's got his visor locked on Scorn. "'cuz seriously, septi-cons am big jerks and deserve get faces punched in. Always." Motormaster snarls finally, unable to handle the press of Bots and the few other cons he can't stand and goes off to look around, possibly find the rec room or locker rooms. He gives up waiting for his food and heads deeper into the Coliseum. That's when he hears Cyclonus' booming voice and stops for a moment to listen, then huffs to himself and goes to ...what? Interupt? Encourage? or just annoy...who knows. But he opens the Rec Room doors and enters, seeing Cyclonus there and trying to be pompous. Hubcap pauses for a moment, translating mentally, and possibly incorrectly. Then pauses for another moment, to translate his response, probably incorrectly. "The best I ever had. Anyone into the Thunderdome?" Cyclonus scratches at his helm. "Blast. Something is wrong with this speech... I cannot determine what... gah!" He's surprised to see Motormaster enter the room. "Motormaster! What are you doing down here? Weary of the Autobots? Well, whatever the case may be, I'm having trouble with my speech. I'm trying to think of a word... something we can do to the Autobots, but it can't be anything like 'destroy' or 'kill.' I've already used defeat. I need... something else!" Buzzsaw has arrived. "Hmm.. A tough question." The Insecticon muses, turning of the buffer for now while leaning back just a bit on the bench, one long leg crossing over the other. "While I do enjoy a bloody battle as much at the next.. I think I'd have to say Olympics. Because really, publicity like this is so hard to come by." Scorn smirks, though it falters at Grimlock's remark, finally noticing his stare and returning that look with a purse of her lips. "Come now, Grimlock, I can be nice if I wanted to." And as if making an example of such a fact, she glances back to First Aid, waving the small buffer in his direction a little. "Care to do my back, maybe? I promise not to bite, I swear." Even if this is true, she doesn't make such a decision any easier for the mech with that sly, toothy smile of hers. Outrun leaves his position near the corridor and tries to blend into the crowd. There may be a truce but that would not be the first times something bad happen during the Olympics so...better be careful. He could use the practice anyway. As he move closer, he hears First Aid's attempt at being polite with an insecticon, "Well isn't First Aid trying to charm a Decepticon?" he mutters with a grins on his face. Loadout finally has to cut his conversation short with the alien from the clean planet, though not before exchanging contact numbers, intergalactic emails and a promise of keeping in touch like a couple of brand new penpals to say the least. You see, you can meet new friends at the Olympics quite easily! Not to mention rub shoulders with enemies it would seem, as he's within earshot of Grimlock, First Aid and...Scorn. The latter gets a lingering look...or more specifically her symbol, before he scooches a little bit int he opposite direction. Just in case. What can one say...he's a hardliner. Contrail gives Fusillade a respectfuly nod to Fusillade when she sights the bomber. She listenes along to Scorn, First Aid, And Grimlock, pretending to be interested in a vendor selling chlorophyll injections. "Well yes," First Aid concedes the point about the Decepticons being big jerks, "And ok, that's true," he concedes the point about Decepticons deserving to get their faces punched in. "But I don't think the galaxy can handle much more war. We need time to rebuild, and for once this kind of fighting is the kind that doesn't get innocents hurt." Aid focuses back on Scorn, "Publicity? The Decepticons care about publicity?" At the buffer question, Aid just gives her a wary look. "I think I'll leave that in your capable hands." Motormaster looks at Cyclonus, frowns and then smirks. "How about debilitate?" Dead End finally recieves his food. Having noticed, with great relief, that Motormaster roamed off to who knows where, the Stunticon retreats to a quiet corner to eat his food... which is all he ever wanted here to begin with. Robot T-Rex! hms, "Oh! Me Grimlock know!" the dinobot says, "Let her septi-con turn her back, then STAB HER WITH KNIFE." he nods, eagerly. "Us...call it event. Or something. Back-stabbings. Me Grimlock bet you win gold medal!" he smacks First Aid heartily on the shoulder, and nudges him towards the femme. "It okay. Me Grimlock be you COACH." Grapple ends up wandering, perhaps at random. Perhaps he's simply wasting time until the actual ceremonies begin. Or maybe he's entranced by the various sculptured and decorations laid about. The Olympics were a big thing, after all, and someone had apparently gone through the trouble to make the area presentable! And those sorts of decisions about color and space was always interesting. Always. "Oh, hey, Contrail!" Fusillade sashays over, and gives a cheery way. She follows the conehead's gaze to the Autobots and Scorn, and gives a quiet 'huh', to herself, before flashing a big grin. " "So," Fusillade continues to Contrail, "Got any extracurricular activities planned off this boat?" Amber MacKenzie manages to carry on a civil conversation with Wiskith, who is a Fropple. Wiskith is all too eager to offer its card, boasting name, address, and even email address. It's in the business of selling communications equipment, and that actually interests her. Amber has her own card in return, and Wiskith happily goes on its way. Amber sighs. That was interesting but happened too quickly Taking a moment to look around, Amber finally spots both heroic Autobots and evil Decepticons, the latter of whom warrant an uneasy frown. She slips through the crowd to get some distance from the Cons, who she suspects will *not* be careful where they step. Scorn rolls her shoulders in a shrug, "I suppose many of them don't, but I certainly enjoy it at least. It's like those Earth celebrities. Do you /see/ how many gifts they get? And they're just swimming in money." The femme almost looks starry-eyed at the thought, fame and fortune, though mostly fortune, something she's always chased after. But the mech's refusal has her frowning again, "Hmph, typical. I'd ask a lackey, but I swear some of my peers know nothing of a high shine, perfect polishing. A shame, really." If she were any more yellow she'd sound exactly like Sunstreaker right now. Cyclonus scratches his chin. Going to Motormaster for tips on eloquence was a shot in the dark, but.... "Yes, that's perfect! We will... debilitate them VICIOUSLY! And when we are done, we will.... we will.... eh...." Seated inside a similar rec room, only not for evil dudes, Ultra Magnus idly taps a finger against the arm of his chair. Looking from datapad to chronometer and back again, the City Commander seems to be simply biding his time until the opening ceremonies are to kick off and he's to give his big inspiring speech. Part of him wishes Rodimus were here, he's not one for public speaking unless he has to. Then again, other parts of him welcomes Prime's little vacation.. memories of his first Olympic speech drift into thought. Glancing at his notes, Magnus closes the file and stands.. walking towards the large open entrance to the Coliseum. Buzzsaw slinks out of the shadows, sneaking up on his target. Truly, the spybot is utterly sneaky, as he approaches a booth selling Fluffy Cesiumcandy. Hopping up, Buzzsaw snags a stick of it, then scuttles back into the shadows, fleeing the scene of the crime and cheerfully making his way along until he spots Fusillade and Contrail chatting. Flapping his wings, the casette-condor flaps up, landing on Fusillade's shoulder, perching on one claw while the other aids int he messy devouring of the fluffy cesium treat. Mmmmm, CESIUM! It's /delicious/. "Except that Autobots would lose the backstabbing event," First Aid points out. At least, he /hopes/ the Autobots would lose the backstabbing event. Aid gets nudged towards Scorn, which is the last place he ever wants to be nudged to. "I don't think anyone ever gives the Decepticons money and gifts out of anything other than fear. Certainly not out of appreciation. You know, Scorn, you might find that people would like you better if you were nicer to them." Contrail gives Fusillade a positively murderous grin and says circumspectfully, "Oh, definitely. I'm going to make a /killing/ here." The Olympics? When everyone's plastered? Yeah, things are going to be said, and Contrail's going to have people everywhere to overhear when these things are said. It'll be great. "Hn. That good point." Grimlock replies to First Aid. And, adding on: "Me Grimlock like her better if she dead." he notes. This noted, he glances over the stands proper, noting the various crowds of aliens and occasional decepticons milling about. Hmmm! "Is it time for things happen yet?" he grunts, and swishes his tail impatiently. "Cuz me Grimlock getting bored again." "Ooooh," Fusillade says appreciatively at both the information and expression and admits, "I might be ranging farther afield, but I don't plan on staying idle between matches either." As Buzzsaw emerges, Fusillade flicks her gaze over him to decide which condor-tape it is, and then adds, "Need any etching done? This fellow is SUPER-precise." Motormaster thinks as he looks at Cyclonus. Apparently his time on earth wasn't just spent roaming around doing nothing. Perhaps he's learned a thing or two by watching squishy TV or searching their internet. "Enfeeble, Dispirit, diminish..." he says with a shrug. He's thrown out some different words since it seems their 'esteemed' leader is at a loss for words. "I'm not sure," First Aid replies, pulling out an official Olympics program. He flips to the schedule, "I would have thought the opening ceremonies would haver already begun, but maybe they're running late." Contrail gives Buzzsaw a pleasant nod. The Cassetticon generally pleases her. However, she shrugs and admits, "I don't exactly need any more identifying marks or new kill tattoos." She static-coughs. "Hn. Maybe a set of glass storage cubes." Cyclonus scratches some changes to his speech as Moto goes on. "Yes, yes... all good suggestions... Blast, I give speeches in battle all the time, why is this so difficult? Perhaps the threat of death clears my mind. Oh, that gives me an idea. Motormaster, I'm going to trust you with a grave responsibility." He plucks a silvery disc from a forearm compartment, and puts it onto his own back. "Here, a detonator switch." He hands Motormaster a remote detonator. "If I should, as the humans put it, 'flub' my speech then I want you to depress the trigger. That will set off the explosive. It won't be enough to kill me, so don't even think of doing it out of spite. Regardless, the threat of it going off may be enough to help me focus on what I must do." Scorn scoffs softly at First Aid, optics narrowing ever so slightly while giving a faux, insulted look. "How dare you, I can be nice to people." She looks like she's about to say something more, but gaze flicks to Grimlock, waiting for him to turn and look outside. And once he does the femme slips in as fluid and quick as lightning up to First Aid, one arm wrapping around the mech's shoulder and pulling him into a tight sidehug, head dipping low to say softly. "It's just not my fault you Bots always try to ruin my day and put me in a bad mood. Plus, you're just so delicious, I can't help myself. I suppose people don't like you cuter mechs getting eaten, which is a shame." The Insecticon hisses softly, gives the medic a playful scratch on the faceplate with a sharp finger, then swiftly darts away to her fellow Cons before Grimlock looks back. Buzzsaw finishes gobbling his delicious candy down, then cocks his head to the side, blinking yellow eyes at Contrail. "Containers made out of glass, or containers to store glass?" The Cassetticon shrugs his wings, lazily settling down on Fusillade's shoulder. Too lazy to flyyyyy. "Ehhh...Not hard to etch things when you've got an awesome beak like mine, y'know? Basic metal? No problem." Robot T-Rex! , naturally, remains blissfully unaware of Scorn's 'flirting' with First Aid. But hey, girls like doctors, right? He grunts again, and then looks back at the Protectobot. "Uh. Me Grimlock no have do anything important, right?" he rumbles. "Just checkings." Motormasters optics 'blinked' in surprise. Ok, Motormaster can be a mean aft at times but this...well, that's just...odd more than anything. He takes the detonator and looks it over then subspaces it, "All right. Very well. I'll be more than happy to press the switch if you 'flub' your speech." he says with a smirk. Amber MacKenzie eventually finds a seat among similarly-sized beings and sits behind a set of quadruplets, at least to her untrained eyes. At least they're short. She smiles and shakes her head as refreshments are offered. No eating or drinking for her; she's not sure the food is edible. Plus, she brought her own water. While waiting for *something* to happen, supposedly and opening speech, she tallies the numbers of Autobots versus Decepticons. Despite all assurances, she's still uneasy about the likelihood of the Decepticons' behaving themselves. Contrail looks Scorn over when she arrives and explains absently, "Glass cubes in which to store energon. It wouldn't be hard for you to etch those, I suppose?" First Aid raises an optical brow as Scorn slithers (that seems the most appropriate verb to use) on up to him and wraps her arm around him. "'Try' to ruin your day?" he says with a smile in his voice. "I think we Autobots have a pretty good track record of success when it comes to that." Once she darts away, the Protectobot rolls his optics. "Absolutely nothing in her processor, I think." He steps back up to Grimlock. "Come on. Cheering on the others *is* pretty important." Coming out the tunnel and into the grand coliseum before him, Ultra Magnus gives some polite curt nods to foreign dignitaries and such.. some Autobots as well. Though Grimlock gets a steely glare, as per their usual bromance. Well, not so much bromance as "Grimlock thinks Magnus' face would look much better with a fist in it"-mance. Robot T-Rex! stares at Ultra Magnus, narrowing his optics. "WHAT." he demands. "Me Grimlock no even DOING anything!" he throws his claws up in the air in exasperation. "Hnf. Stupid Magnus. With him stupid rules. And, uh...stupid...shoulder...thingies." There were certainly a great deal of very well made statues and pictures about. Grapple hadn't expected any less; it was the reason he came out here. Sure, the opening ceremonies were full of pomp and circumstance, but the decor was where the INSPIRATION was! So, he ends up staring at a large, carved statue of some kind of rock. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but there was what looked like a face. Peering at the face. ..Eventually realized the face was staring back. The 'statue' gives a huff before moving off. Whoops. Misfire has arrived. Bluestreak has arrived. Buzzsaw cocks his head to the side at Contrail's question, idly headbobbing at Scorn when she slides up. "Mmmm...Nah, not a problem. Worst that'll happen is I accidentally break one until I get a feel for the material. Other than that, easy-peasy. I'm pretty awesome like that. Just want identifiers on them, or fancy designs?" The accompanying smugness is left off of Buzzsaw's bragging overt bragging. He settles for /IMPLIED/ smugness instead. Hubcap smiles at the Junkions for a few minutes, but they seem focused on other things, so he waves in a friendly manner and saunters off, apparently casually, into the crowds. As he does so, he /happens/ to pass Amber, and mutters quickly before moving on without pausing. Hubcap mutters to Amber MacKenzie. Contrail thinks Buzzsaw's bragging is probably justified and thus does not comment on it. Buzzsaw does have an awesome Space Microphone. That's pretty swagger. She gestures with her hands as she explains, "Eh, maybe Decepticon logos? I could probably use a decent set of cubewear for the office." Scattershot has arrived. "Hellooo ladies. And tape." Scorn smirks while sliding up to her fellow Cons, subspacing her buffer and replacing it for an energon goodie dispenser. After snagging a few for herself the femme makes sure to offer to the others while gaze soon turns to linger on the others waiting for the opening ceremony to finally begin. "Mm.. I really can't wait for the more combative events. Show those Bots and their precious EDC who deserves the gold and recognition more." Bluestreak walks in, noticing that the room was already filling up- humans, bots, and cons alike, among other species. Feeling both uncomfortable and comfortable in this crowd, he looked around the area, taking it in as the room increasingly buzzed with various conversation all around him. Buzzsaw cocks his head to the side, beady eyes swinging about the crowd before narrowing, and the birdbot shifts a bit, hopping onto Contrail's arm for easier conversation. "Oh, just a simple logo. Yeah, no problems. Didja just want a personal set, or is this like a departmental gift, or just for you and some friends?" Snapping his beak around, Buzzsaw's eyes suddenly narrow into focused slits, his every circuit focused as Scorn pulls out...THE ENERGON GOODIE DISPENSER! EEeeeee! Buzzsaw shifts from the conversation, the Terrible Birdicon Beak snapping up an offered Energon Goodie and munching it down contentedly, letting out a happy sigh. "Mmmmm....Tasty. As for combat, yeah, you're welcome to it. I'll hang back instead, thank you very much!" Amber MacKenzie hears a familiar voice behind her and stiffens, but other than that, she gives no hint of anything unusual happening. Opening the program, which was available in many, many different languages, she reads the night's schedule of events. Opening ceremony, a few competitions she's never heard of, and some combat - boooooring. To her dismay, she doesn't see anything remotely resembling gymnastics, at least not under that terminology. What a disappointment. Not once does she turn to look at the Decepticons. Her program somehow slips out of one hand as she brushes her hair back with the other, and she has to bend down to pick it up again. There's a blare of horns! Apparently that means that opening ceremonies about to begin! It starts off with a marching band which does a slow loop around the track, playing that song marching bands always play. Dun dun dun dun dun, dunnnn dun, dun dun dun. Bwa bwa bwa bwabwa. In the marching band are some of Earth's strangest animals! Llamas, goats, and even ELEPHANTS! An alien flips his s**t at seeing the elephant, screaming and fleeing from the stands in absolute terror. "IT'S AN ABOMINATION!!!" the alien cries. Finally, as the marching band completes its trek and exits out the way it came, a small tank, no smaller than a car, rolls out into the stadium, coming to a stop in the middle of the arena. A platform rises up under him, and when it stops, none other than EDC General Franklin Cross emerges from the cockpit! Dressed in his service uniform, Cross takes a moment to look around the stands for a moment before he speaks. "People of the galaxy," Cross begins. "We humans are new to this vast community. We are a young species, only now beginning to discover our place in the stars. It has been a rough beginning. Recently, we suffered a massive setback. Our planet went dark, and for many weeks, our people suffered. But here's the thing about it. Humans are weak... but we want to live... even if we're wounded... or tortured... we feel the pain. We survive, we learn, we adapt." He pauses. "We overcome. Here, at these Olympics, you will see the new face of humankind, reborn. We're going to show you things you wouldn't think possible from our little planet. And once we're done, we will spread our wings out into the stars. But until then, let me say to all of you..." He salutes. "Welcome to Earth." His hand snaps back to his side, then he climbs back into his tank, which hops off the platform and drives away. There's something about the Olympics that makes Scattershot...angry. It probably has something to do with having to play nice with the purple warlords so a few aliens can show off how far they can throw stuff. He stands among the crowds, away from the risers and seats, flanked by Bottlethrottle and 'Armless' Luke Murray, the EDC soldier who escaped from the Decepticon science labs, now outfitted with two cybernetic arms. Scattershot watches Cross's speech, all scowls. "No offense Armless, but your boss is an asshole." Murray looks up at him with a sigh. "Give him a chance." Aimless perks up, "Who said my name?" Misfire puts down his flask as he sits in the very back of the Decepticon crowd. He looks over at Aimless as he processes the previous statements. "Scattershot, said Armless...Nobody wants to talk to you!" Aimless just glowers at Misfire as he goes back to gobbling all the concessions he bought. Misfire just shakes his head. "Don't make yourself sick...." First Aid is about to comment on how late the ceremonies are when suddenly, horns! Cheers! First Aid sticks close by Grimlock and Ultra Magnus as he watches. The doctor's optics go wide when Cross finally steps out. "Why that... huh! 'Busy' indeed!" First Aid listens to the rest of the speech, clapping at all the right spots. Robot T-Rex! watches the ceremonies, and hmmms, and scratches at his head. "Uuuuh. Am us not s'posed to like that guy?" he rumbles to the other Autobots present. "Me Grimlock forget, 'cuz me not read reports unless them am really important." Contrail will have to table her discussion with Buzzsaw now that the speeches are beginning. She watches Cross the way that a human would watch a hornet. He's an inconsequential insect, and yet, he must be handled with care lest his sting blow up in everyone's faces. Contrail also watches how the rest of the audience reacts to Cross. In fact... she moves a bit away from her group just to find enough floor space to transform so that she can better watch Scattershot. He doesn't like Cross, does he? And that's interesting. Flipping into a modified F-35B Lightning II, the sky is not the limit. Shockwave has arrived. Shockwave arrives on an auxillary shuttle. First Aid explains, "We're supposed to respect him as the leader of one of our allies and do our best to guide him back to a friendly path." Motormaster had left Cyclonus and gone to sit in the stands but when Cross appeared on the platform he had no other thoughts but to go after the little piece of fragging meat sack. He stood up and looked about ready to kill something....but if it hadn't been for another Con next to him yanking him down into his seat and snapping something at him, he would have strode right over to the platform and blew the little squishy away. Outrun looks up at Cross makes his entrance. "Interesting..." he mutters. As far as he knew, the EDC commander wasn't supposed to make a speech tonight. He wonders what it means, especially that part about the new face of humanity. Hubcap pauses and watches as Cross appears and makes his speech. Mulling it over for a few moments, he eventually declares "Now there's a couple of mixed messages." Unfortunately, the people he's declaring it in front of only speak drannit, so they glare at him until he moves on and stops blocking their view. Bluestreak stopped what he was doing to listen to Cross's speech, otherwise than that, doesn't do much more. If he heard what Scattershot was saying, he would have agreed. Heeding Magnus's order to stay away from the EDC, and in particular, Cross, he went another way. Sighing at Grimlock, Ultra Magnus dutifully approaches the middle of the arena. Head held high, as if his gigantic frame would allow any less, and arms powering back and forth as he strides forward; the Autobot's second-in-command nods before the Galactic committee and of course the odd myriad collection of aliens here. The Olympics aren't just about Cybertronians, after all (though besides Barkida, they hardly get represented). Upon Cross' abrupt entrance, speech, and exit.. the City Commander generously claps his approval, giving Grimlock another stare. Shockwave has left. Scorn grins when Buzzsaw greedily gobbles up the offered goodie, the femme reaching out to give the bird tape an affectionate little scratch under the beak. Such a good little attack bird. But then the blare of trumpets and such catches her attention, antennas twitching and perking up as head cranes to see the opening speech take place. Unfortunately it's by Cross, which only garners a snort of distaste from her. "So when exactly are we going to crush that pest under our heel? I've grown extrmely tired of hearing about him." Grapple perks up at the sound of trumpets and speeches. The ceremonies finally began? Ah well; he could look at things later. He wondered if this was when the speeches all fired off, looking to the center of the arena. Amber MacKenzie listens to General Cross with no change of expression, just the face of a slightly-bored spectator waiting for the show to get on the road. Come on, get on with it. She casually slips something back into a pocket while rustling her program somewhat impatiently. Dead End looks up from his meal to appraise the tiny meatbag on stage. The Stunticon eyes him over as he leaves and ponders quietly to himself, "So that's the guy who's such a big deal to motormaster... doesn't look like much." Buzzsaw transfers to Scorn's arm after the scratching and the treat, mostly because his previous perch went and turned into a plane so she can watch everything. Shrugging his wings slightly, Buzzsaw grumps slightly at Cross' entrance, settling on his new perch and harrumphing. "Well...At least the meatsack makes short speeches. Bright side of life and stuff." Autobot Battlecruiser says, "A chance?" Scattershot dips back his flask. "Luke, when you've been around for a few million years you learn a few things about people: especially preprogrammed people. What they're capable of, and what they ain't. And that sumbitch is only capable of a whole lot of trouble. He's like a fleshy Megatron with a..." "A mustache?" Bottlethrottle offers helpfully. "A mustache. Thanks BT." Luke just frowns, watching the podium as Magnus approaches. "Shot, you and me are friends. The Cons took my arms and you got me out of there. But you ever wonder if the Cons would care about us at all if you hadn't crashed that Ark here?" Scattershot has no answer. There's a long silence as he stands by his friend. "I wanna punch something in the face."" Sit-Com takes in the speech, stroking his chin as it drones on. He's refilled his enersmoothie, and this time it's sprinkled with borane. For that extra pick-me-up. Wreck-Gar, having disappeared for a while, returns to his seat, fashionably late, and while deliberate, was not without purpose. He looks strange, almost new. He's all shiny. His paint, it would seem, is Tri-Colour. When he's washed clean, and given a coat of wax, it sparkles. His reds are more of a ruby. The browns are either a bronze, and the lighter shade is a sandstone-like colour. He's hardly recognisable. Of course, it won't last. He's been entered into at least three events that are guaranteed to scuff up the paint, and cause more than enough damage to bring him back to normal. Bluestreak finally finds his way to the spectator area, where he takes a seat... wherever it was empty. Honestly, he never seen an area so crowded. He tries not to shift nervously, but he can't help himself. Cyclonus soon joins Magnus, apparently satisfied with his changes to his speech. Magnus gets a nod from him, as he's one of the few Autobots Cyclonus sees as anything remotely above pond-scum. No nods from him towards the Galactic committee, though he does seem to be scanning the stands for someone. Galvatron, maybe? Yes. He doesn't find his leader, and is both relieved and disappointed. Hubcap frowns slightly, and starts to raise a hand to his head, before aborting the gesture. Motormaster has had enough and gets up, moving through the crowded stadium, not bothering if he treads on other peds, tentacles or feet. He's on the hunt and in need to find himself one particular squishy. His face is set in a frown of determination, his optics narrowed in that cruel visage of rage. Aliens and some in his path scatter, not wanting to even bother meeting this menace head on if they can help it. He's leaving and that's all they care about. Motormaster launches towards local space to the The Swordfish - Space Arena. Motormaster has left. Sideswipe has arrived. After Cross exits stage right, a giant podium is hauled into the arena center and set-up rather quickly. Humans in mechs do most of the heavy lifting, stomping off the same way they came. The Earth delegate from the Galactic Olympic Committee rises, approaching the podium. There's actual a stairway inside the large Transformer portion'd construct, the human appears at the top of the podium after climbing. Tapping the microphone a couple times, feedback rings throughout the coliseum. "Ah, sorry. That was quite the speech, wasn't it folks? Man, that General Cross. Sure is something, wouldn't you say!" he cheers excitedly, remembering to get the EDC leader's autograph later. Near the stage, a human in a rediculous costume teeters about. A black skin-tight suit decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars superglued sporadically over it's surface, the teenager with acne sweats profusely in the costume. Wires are suspended off his suit, with the various planets hanging off them.. all of science-fair mockup quality. Except Pluto, someone ripped that one off at the last minute. "First, let me introduce this year's mascot.. Gal-Axy, the games official mascot!" the Earth representitive cheers, pointing to the awkward teenager in the equally awkward costume. A Xetaxxan in the stands calls out, "That's neither a gal.. or an axe!" his eyes bug out semi-randomly. "Yes well, he represents the Sol system.. the home of this year's games! Without further adieu, I present the representitive of the.." the Earth rep fumbles, reading from his index card. "Cybertronian Empire, Cyclone-r-us!" he announces, fake clapping and exiting the podium. Galvatron, lurking sullently at the center of the Decepticon contingent, raps Cyclonus on the back pointedly. "Cyclonus, make me proud. They may have forbidden Rodimus and I from taking part, but they'll see our spirit remains strong." With a sigh, Sideswipe offloads from a shuttle, then watches as Sunstreaker, his twin, heads right towards a place he can find a reflective surface to buff his chest plate in. With a sigh, Sideswipe leaves him to his vanity as he moves into the Coliseum to find Bluestreak and a place to sit. Nearly run over by Motormaster in the process, he dodges out of the way and glares after the Con before looking back at the activities and the poor kid on display now. He smirks as he enters the stands, marveling at the number of beings of varying types. He sees one or two Con's he'd like to bash right then and there, but...he has to behave... Combat: Cyclonus compares his Leadership to 55: Failure :( Robot T-Rex! hmmms, and watches the goings-on. "Hmmm. It be better if it real lady with real axe." Grimlock mutters. He looks around, and then lumbers towards the Autobot gathering. There's a pause, however, as Grimlock eyes up the decepticons present- in particular, Contrail. "Hey." Grimlock grunts, and nudges somebody close to him. "Isn't that one septi-con s'posed to be dead?" Bluestreak sees Sideswipe approaching and waves him over. Lucky for the red mech, there were seats! "You look ruffled, what happened?" Buzzsaw shifts up from Scorn's arm, more comfortably perchign on her arm as his eyes narrow. A Space Camera pops out of a compartment, focusing on the announcer who just fumbled Cyclonus' name, snapping several pictures so his identity can be looked up /later/. Buzzsaw snaps his beak menacingly at the announcer's direction, then settles back, a Space Microphone sliding out of its shoulder bay so he can properly record Cyclonus' amazing speech! No pressure. There's a high-pitched whine, then old-fashioned static bursts loudly over the PA system the moment the Earth rep leaves the podium. It settles down to a heavily-distorted voice, which booms out four simple words: "FRANKLIN CROSS: DEFINE PEOPLE!" Then all returns to normal, leaving folks to wonder. Galvatron says, "Heh heh. A little dissent in the ranks." Galvatron says, "If only Soundwave was here to tell me which Autobot that was. It pleases me to see them at odds with their squirming hosts." Sideswipe nods to Bluestreak and has to shuffle sideways quickly to avoid treading on someone. He finally makes it over to Blue and sits down. "Aww Sunny's preening again. He thinks someone yarked up goo on him in the shuttle so he's off to find a way to clean it off. Probably won't see him till the ceremonies are over." He was about to say more when the PA system comes on and the loud voice booms distorted like over it...then cuts off. Raising an optic, he looks at Bluestreak, "I must have missed General Aft-head doing a speech?" Contrail says, "Buzzsaw, any luck?" Amber MacKenzie finds the Earth's presentation so far to be embarrassing. She sighs and looks away from the podium, at least until a weird, staticky interruption livens things up. That warrants a snicker and a round of muted applause. But where is Cyclonus's speech? She really wants to hear this. It should be equally amusing. Impudent Fool Backfire says, "I can be there to inform you in person, Lord Galvatron!" Contrail says, "I was monitoring Scattershot. He also seems disgruntled. As, perhaps, do his human friends." Grapple sits quite a few seats down from just about everyone, in a less-occupied area with a slightly worse view. He does, however, spot Bluestreak and Sideswipe further off and gives a small wave. Buzzsaw says, "I'm recording, Lord Galvatron, Contrail. I'm not quite as good at actual analysis as Soundwave, however. Also, one of the Autobots was telling the meatsack in the stands that we're watching her. Hubcap, I think, to the Female Meatsack." Bluestreak tries his hardest to not smirk or laugh at that. He couldn't agree with that announcement more. Hearing Sideswipe's question, he nodded. "Yeah, you did. He was talking about how humans can overcome, making mention of what happened here." Just hearing Cross speak was enough to make the gunner seethe. " Cyclonus tries not to jump in surprise when Galvatron appears behind him! THAT'S where he was! "Ah, of course, my Lord! I shall give a speech worthy of the Empire!" Oh, drat. Maybe now he's put himself under TOO MUCH pressure! Walking in a dignified manner to the podium before climbing up to give his speech. "Denizens of the galaxy, I bid you welcome. I am Cyclonus of the *Decepticon* Empire, and Galvatron chose me to speak for him in his place. Tonight, and for the remainder of these glorious Olympics, you shall see feats of prowess and daring the likes of which you will have witnessed before!" Wait, that's supposed to be 'have NEVER witnessed before.' Oh, no, he flubbed his speech! He expects the bomb to go off... but it doesn't? Why would Motormaster pass this chance up? Oh well. He continues... "...or so you think!" Phew, good rebound, Cyc. "For we Decepticons are a proud warrior race, and I assure you, it is WE who will emerge victorious in this contest, as we are in ALL contests!" Misfire continues to listen to speeches and stretches out. He looks over at Aimless. "Easiest assignment ever!" He says to his partner. Aimless looks at Gal-Axy and then up at Misfire. "I need a Gal-Axy shirt!" Misfire sighs as he pulls himself up, looking for a shirt for his partner. Galvatron pinches the bridge of his nose. Perhaps Cyclonus can recover. Combat: Cyclonus compares his Leadership to 70: Failure :( Or not. Buzzsaw says, "...Right, the MacKenzie Media Meatsack. Forgot the name, most of them look alike, you know?" Contrail says, "- wait, how do they /know/ we're monitoring Amber MacKenzie? - is this frequency compromised?" Hubcap says, "... No?" Contrail says, "Slaggit, everyone discuss Blot's bathing habits." Misfire says, "He baths?" .30 cal. Slugfest says, "Blot no ever has baff." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Hubcap, I knew you were secretly a Decepticon spy!" Impudent Fool Backfire says, "I just didn't tell anyone." Misfire says, "OHhhhh, that makes sense!" Buzzsaw says, "Well, Laserbeak has footage he found by accident once. I think it's why he doesn't talk anymore." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "You know, secret-secret hush hush stuff." Hubcap says, "... Until right now, when you just told everyone." Galvatron says, "Fool, you've told them now!" Galvatron says, "Wait... no he isn't! Fool!" Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Wait, I'm confused.. how FOOLISH AM I???" Galvatron isn't clear about who's the fool here but he's definitely annoyed with someone. Misfire says, "Aimless would like that tape Buzzsaw...WHAT?" Fusillade sidles back from a concession stand. She gazes back to the gathered Decepticons, the opening speeches, and then back to the Autobots. Back to the seated Decepticons, back to the Autobots. She slurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrps long and hard through a phosphorescent silly straw, and cringes at Cyclonus. "Oh, erk." Suddenly glad to not be anywhere near the podium, she finally makes her decision to go mix up the seating a bit, and wedges herself in the seat next to Bluestreak, likely interrupting his conversation with any other nearby Autobots. "S'up?" she asks, although this time it is accompanied by another slurp, instead of a cluster bomb. "Think they'll let us perform next time? Speeches are a bit passive for my taste when it comes to worshiping physical and technological prowess, yannow?" Galvatron says, "You represent the pinnacle of foolishness, Backfire! No, the other way! The very NADIR! Now, someone secure this channel!" Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Ahaha, I knew it!" Misfire says, "Thanks for taking the mantle Backfire!" Hubcap cannot quite believe he's playing along with this, but... "Okay, I'm going back into... uh, /deep cover!/ Yeah." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "I am the PINNACLE, hear that? Eat it Cons!!" Robot T-Rex! chimes in with a well timed: "BOOOO! SEPTI CONS AM JERKS!" Cyclonus feels apprehensive, now. Maybe Motormaster is just waiting for him to lower his guard and feel safe before he triggers the explosive. The doubt gnaws at him. "We Decepticons have faced many foes before, but left them all DEBILITATED beyond all capacity! The humans, the Autobots, the Quintessons, we've basted them all!" Oh, dammit, he did it again. That was 'bested' not 'basted.' Stupid, stupid! "...and so shall it be again in these Olympics, as we claim the gold that is rightfully ours! Our enemies shall be cast down, humiliated, and defenestrated through every window of opportunity!" Monitor says, "Encryption in progress." Monitor has encrypted this channel. Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Yes, not secret Decepticon spy Hubcap. Wink wink." Impudent Fool Backfire says wink wink, don't ask why. Misfire says, "So...Hubcap isn't a spy?" Monitor says, "Channel has been secured my lord." Contrail says, "Hmm. Hubcap, your energonwork reports have been much delayed. I'll expect another shipment of vials before I can give you your pills again." Galvatron squints. "Is Cyclonus mocking the organics for their potential as foodstuffs? But he mentioned the Autobots as well... where is he going with this?" Monitor says, "... he can't hear you Director Contrail." Scorn allows Buzzsaw to keep his place on her arm, or wherever he feels comfortable, not bothered by his presence. In fact, she even offers a few more goodies, eating a few herself while watching Cyclonus finally climb the podium and regail them all with his speech. The mistakes, however, have her quirking a brow, optics glancing at Buzzsaw a moment. "Funny, I never took Cyclonus to be the sort to get stage fright. I hope, for his sake at least, that he doesn't mess this up for us." Combat: Cyclonus compares his Leadership to 90: Success! Galvatron says, "NO! He's not a spy. At least he's not OUR spy. He's an Autobot, you capering boob! Nnng, this is the part of the Olympics I hate, having to wait to demolish the enemy." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Of course not, Misfire. GEEEZ." Amber MacKenzie bites her lip and looks down, actually wincing at Cyclonus's flubs. No doubt they'll be taken out of his hide. Skin, armor, whatever. Who'd have thought that Cyclonus was nervous about making speeches? Isn't that a requirement of leadership? She sighs and shakes her head. Impudent Fool Backfire says, "But I don't blame you for thinking he was, I mean.. my AWESOME acting totally sold it." Bluestreak stares in surprise at Fusillade sitting next to him. He was about to say something on that until his thought process was interrupted by a rather loud slurp from her. Remembering they are supposed to play nice with the Cons while the Olympics were going on, he finally responded. "I just think they want to get all this formality out of the way. We are participating in the games anyway, so we get to show off eventually." He felt himself babbling again, this was just all too weird, he looked at Sideswipe for a moment before looking back at Fusillade. Misfire says, "Ohhhh! Ok, gotcha." Galvatron says, "It was truly the pinnacle. Again." Scorn audibly sighs Buzzsaw just...shakes his beak back and forth, pausing to calmly eat the offered Energon Goodies from Scorn. "Suppose he's more scared of looking foolish in front of a crowd than dying valiantly or something? Weird, huh?" Buzzsaw keeps watching the speech, wincing again. "...I...don't think it'd help Cyclonus if he realzies I'm recording his speech, do you?" Sideswipe blinks as he was about to say something to Bluestreak, only to have Fusillade interupt them. "Hey!" he growls. "What the..." but then snaps his mouth shut as he keeps from doing anything that might get him tossed out of the opening ceremonies. But the glare he shoots her could have knocked her out of the sky... Cyclonus gets his groove back! "So beware, Autobots! THIS TIME, this time you have NO HOPE of prevailing in the Olympics! Nor will your little Terran friends be of any help! Ha! The fact that the Autobots even need to rely on them just to break even with US just goes to show how we Decepticons are VASTLY superior to them in every way imagineable! So, Decepticons, I beseech you! Heed the examples of your mighty ancestors!" He lifts away from the podium, raising a fist into the air! "RISE UP! RISE UP! Go forth, and claim glory! Go forth, and claim victory! GO FORTH, FOOORRRRR GAAAAAAALLLLLLVVVVVVVATRON!!!" His speech is so stirring that even some of the aliens are crying, "For Galvatron!" Misfire rises up and cheers wildly! Aimless yawns, rolls his eyes, and slurps his drink. F-35B Lightning II is, sadly, paying more attention to Scattershot than she is to Cyclonus, so the highs and lows of his speech are largely lost upon her. But at the end... she does rise up. Hovering a bit. And shouts, "FOR GALVATRON!" before she realises what she's doing. Hubcap looks sharply about, completely faking confusion over the whole PA business. "Who was that?" He asks of no one in particular, "Was that /you!?/" he points at a random crowd member, totally overlooking Cyclonus' utter failure to explode. Galvatron nods approvingly. Cyclonus brought it home after all! Always reliable, Cyclonus. He basks in the adulation of his gang of brutal war machines and icy sociopaths and cackling psycho killers and so on. Motormaster, not finding his prey, came back into the stadium entrance to listen to the rest of Cyclonus' speech. But he holds some serious power in his hands and he listens and grins as the Con flubs his speech. But instead of triggering the bomb right then, he lets the 'poor' thing continue until the end. He ended it on a high note but then...he should end it with a *BANG* too. That's when he triggered the bomb strapped to Cyclonus' back! Fusillade tilts her head to the side at the car robots, and admits, "Certainly don't get the experience that often. Frankly after what happened to Earth I am surprised that they still decided to hold it here," she remarks on the games, suspiciously oblivious of the mixed company. She doesn't seem to be flat out flirting in the same way that Scorn was earlier with First Aid. She does ask though, "Hey, did you see Scattershot around, by the--" Cyclonus's speech crescendos, and she immediately leaps to her feet, "FOR Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaalvatroooooooooooooonnnn!" She ahems as she clears the fierce cry out of her throat, before giving a whoop at the detonation. "YEEEEEEAH! Oh, did you SEE the way that sprayed out to make a fantastic palm frond shape?" She turns back to Bluestreak, her wingblades rustling about her hips as she mimes the firetrails with her two hands. KA-BOOM! Cyclonus explodes in mid-air, the audience screaming in terror at the sudden, shocking event! But when it's over, Cyclonus is still in the air, fist upraised. Fighting down the pain, he summons more strength as he continues, "And THAT is the sort of dedication you should beware Autobots, that we would even STRAP EXPLOSIVES TO OURSELVES, simply to show that we have no fear of pain! NO! It is failure we fear, AND WE WILL NOT FAIL!!!" Ohhhh, that was part of the speech, the audience concludes, and they resume raucous cheering as Cyclonus flies away. Eventually he makes his way back to the rec room where he promptly collapses onto his face. Fusillade tchs and shakes her head, "Oh now the whole stadium is gonna smell," as Cyclonus cruises past. Galvatron jumps to his feet, about to berate Cyclonus for daring to explode, but wait, he's all right? Perhaps it was all part of the speech! "Excellent, excellent! Yes, the Decepticons will DOMINATE this Olympics! Even exploding cannot defeat our BURNING WILL to VICTORY!" Robot T-Rex! 's eyes go wide at the explosion, and he can't help but go: "Huh." He scratches at his head. "Uh. Me Grimlock confused. Me like seeing septi-cons explode...but me Grimlock think septi-cons MEANT to do that...so that make me Grimlock not want like." he grumbles again, and looks over at...Hubcap. "What this MEAN?" Misfire stops cheering as he looks at Aimless, he jerks up Aimless and looks him over and sighs. "Wheew..No bombs..." He looks at Aimless. "Check my back!" Aimless doesn't bother to look, but says, "You're clean!" Misfire whews a sigh of relief as he sits back down. Aimless looking over at him. "Shirt? Gal-Axy!" Misfire sighs. F-35B Lightning II cries out, "Foul! Clear Autobot sabotage! Strip them of their athletic scholarships!" because someone has to. "Probably not. Might want to keep that information from him, just to be safe." Scorn smirks a little to the casseticon and looks back. Thankfully Cyclonus gets it together and finishes his speech with an exciting finale, the Insecticon clapping with a grin and cheering, "For Galvatron! For Galva-!" Applause is cut short, sadly, when the second in command actually explodes before the entire stadium, her optics wide at the sight. At least he's still alive, much to her pleasure and displeasure, gaze following him like a hungry hawk before he disappears into the rec room. Hey, she can't help it. Injured mechs are easier prey, even if they are her teammates. Grapple simply stares at Cyclonus's unexpected explosion with baffled confusion. He isn't sure if he should be applauding or not. Eventually, he settles for a sort of slow, polite and entirely awkward golf-clap. Sit-Com jawdrops. Exploding Cyclonus? What could be more awesome? He's only disappointed he didn't think of it. Galvatron says, "Cyclonus, your exploding had better not negatively affect your performance in the Games." Cyclonus says, "Oh... don't worry, my Lord, I'm sure I'll be fine. I... just need to take *five,* as they say." Ultra Magnus, still in somewhat disbelief, gives Cyclonus a curt nod as he floats back to the rec room. Part of the speech or not, it certainly got Galvatron and the other Decepticon's attention alright. Reapproaching the stands as Cyclonus departs, the Earth rep dons the ardouous task of climbing the stairs to the top of the podium. Finally emerging at the top of the structure, the small human wipes some sweat from his brow as he speaks into the microphone. "Yes, well.. how was that folks? I'm speechless, I don't know about you." he nervously chokes out, not quite sure to make of the Decepticon's speech. "I mean, at least a round of applause for the pyrotechnic finale?" Gal-Axy AKA the teenager in the mascot costume passes out from heat exhaustion, being hauled away in a stretcher. He does however give a thumbs up on his way out, though likely no one is paying attention. "So, another last minute addition to the ticket.." he trails, again reading from the index card. "Wreckgrrr, the representitive from the planet Junk!" Amber MacKenzie simply facepalms. It was a good save, but... bloody hell, Bunny Ears. Galvatron says, "Very well. Seize your five with vigor." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "If not Lord Cyclonus, let me know.. I'll fill-in to defend your honor!" Cyclonus would say, 'Yes, my Lord' but he's already passed out. Galvatron says, "If I need you to attend me, Backfire, I'll order you painted in motley and festooned with bells!" Hubcap sidles over to Grimlock and nods meaningfully towards the Decepticons. "It means they're trying to confuse you, Grimlock. Just... nod menacingly and remember to crush them later." Scorn chuckles over the comm, "Now I'd love to see that." Buzzsaw just...blinks several times at the Exploding Cyclonus. Shaking his head, Buzzsaw just sighs. "...Well, at least I got that on tape." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "I'm confused, should I paint myself motley and gather balls?" F-35B Lightning II transforms back to robot mode and tries to find Hubcap in the crowd. Stupid Minibots, being mini. Oh, over by Grimlock? That's inconvenient. She tries to nonchalantly sidle closer to Hubcap, anyway. In a transformation that is harder than it looks, Contrail rises up into robot mode. Impudent Fool Backfire says, "I mean, I'm good at gathering balls." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "That's no problem." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "I just don't know where to find motley paint." Galvatron says, "Not yet, Backfire! I'll let you know." Contrail says, "Buzzsaw could probably help you with the detailling work, Backfire. His etching talents are quite excellent, I am told." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Orders understood, m'lord. Operation: Ball Hoarding.. Halted!" Mindwipe says, "Bells, Backfire." Buzzsaw says, "...But if I touch him, I might catch his Impudent Foolishness. I'm not sure I like that." Combat: Wreck-Gar compares his Leadership to 55: Success! Wreck-Gar places his hands on his knees, and rises to his feet, saying in a quiet tone, "Well, a Junkion has to do, what a Junkion has to do." As he passes Ultra Magnus, he asks, "Will somebody get this big walking carpet out of my way?" Stepping forward to address the podium, he asks, "Bueller? . . . Bueller? . . . Bueller?" He is of course checking the microphone, even though he saw it working moments before. Placing his hands on the sides of the podium, he states loudly and clearly, "I am Wreck-Gar. And I see" his left hand goes up, pointing to the Junkion contingent, "a whole army of my countrymen, here in defiance of tyranny! Let me tell you somethin', all right?" Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Huh, Mindwipe?" Wreck-Gar continues his speech, "If you dream and you allow yourself to dream you can do anything! The saddest thing in life is wasted talent. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough . . ." he just leaves it there, pausing. He lowers his tone from the fiery stuff he had been saying, returning to a softer voice, "I just wanted to say that I'm a Junkion, and uh, I'm pretty proud of it." He sounds humble, almost sheepish as he says that. But, as he looks up at the Olympic banner, he reflects, "This isn't a video game, son. We all go a little mad sometimes. Stupid is as stupid does. Begin each day as if it was on purpose." Contrail says, "Hmm. Get Laserbeak to do it, then?" Combat: Wreck-Gar compares his Leadership to 55: Success! Sideswipe continued to glare at Fusillade but then looks down at Grapple who had earlier 'waved' at him an Bluestreak. He looked at the Con now, instead of 'ignoring' him and was about to say something, not even having been paying attention to the speech Cyclonus was rattling off until....that was, he exploded! His head jerked around and when he saw that the Con was injured he actually cheered! "Haha! That's the way to down a Con! Blow a hole in their back!" He yelled loud enough he was sure Fusillade AND Grapple could both hear him. Wreck-Gar's takes the microphone off the podium, and walks out in front, singing, "Oooh, war, huh, good God y'all. What is it good for, absolutely nothing, say it again!~ He raises his arms, trying to get the crowd to sway. He'll boom out a few other anti-war American songs, before returning to the regularly scheduled speech, "Now we could do it with conventional weapons that take years and cost millions of lives. Everyman dies. Not every man really lives. I think that these Olympics absolutely require a really futile and stupid gesture to be done on somebody's part." He spots someone in the crowd, "Here's looking at you, kid." He winks, then raises his arms in victory, "Yippee-ki-yay!" He drops the microphone, on the floor, and walks back, not giving it another glance, returning to his seat. Mindwipe says, "You need a hearing aid, Backfire?" Impudent Fool Backfire says, "No." Motormaster snickers maliciously over the com but says nothing else. Impudent Fool Backfire says, "My last 'aid' took over my head, finished a suit of Galvatron armor that was -my- idea, walked me around like a puppet, and got himself brigged." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Do -you- think I need another aid??" Misfire Imagines if his Brother his heavy as he listens to Wreck Gar belt out Anti-War Songs and then ponders if he is the Sky Pilot... Mindwipe says, "Yes. Try for a /sane/ one, next time." Misfire says, "I'll let you borrow Aimless..." Galvatron scowls, arms crossed. "Typical Junkion. If only the human had been so incoherent. Well, the audience will see our superiority on the field AS WELL as the podium! They will learn why they should FEAR us and pay us TRIBUTE! Misfire, no humming along!" Scorn says, "Mm, well Backfire. I could possibly help you a little. Of course I have a few things I'd need help with in return." Misfire yelps and stops as commanded. He points at Aimless, who in turn points at Misfire. Bluestreak starts when Cyclonus just explodes at the end of the speech. That was... unexpected. He looks when Sideswipe was waving at someone, then looked behind to see it was Grapple. Happy to see a familiar face, he waves Grapple down to join them. He sort of looked unimpressed when Fusillade stood and cheered but answers her question. "I haven't seen Scattershot yet." He watched her mime the firetrail at the way the explosion happened. At least that was entertaining. Wreck-Gar's speech was... well, it was his own way of being inspirtational. Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Like a partnership?" Scorn says, "Ehhh.... Possibly? I wouldn't go so far as to call it that.." Grapple notices Bluestreak's wave and gives a short nod. Then -- and probably annoying anyone he would be sitting near -- shimmies between seated audience members and the isle itself to get to his fellow Autobots. AUTOBOTS, SIDESWIPE. Thankfully, a seat next to the two is unoccupied. "..I'm not sure what I just witnessed." Whether he means Cyclonus's explosion, Wreckgar's speech or both is unclear. Again, the Earth rep tromps up to the mic from the stair access and wipes another bead of sweat from his brow. "Well now, that sure was something. Haha!" he speaks into a replacement mic, as Wreck-Gar's was callously dropped on the stage floor. "But I think that dude watched too much tv, remember kids.. eat your artificially enhanced vegetables, take your regulation steroid vitamins, and walk your robot dog on the treadmil!" Such is the way of the future, plus pellet-size expandable pizza! "Last up is the Autobot representitive.." he stutters again, reading from the index card. Next time, they should probably rehearse this or something. "Ursa Magnus!" Impudent Fool Backfire says, "So you're my partner." Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Okay." "Eh, well, I'll have a WHOLE week, so Scattershot and I will get to the match soon enough. Just kinda wanted to see what kinda mood he was in first, ha!" At Sidswipe's comment, she turns on him, and snipes, "NO NO NO, you're doing it WRONG! The FRONT, dum dum!" She snaps both forefingers to point to her bomb bays, face screwed up in a pout at him. Buzzsaw says, "...Heh. Ursa Magnus." Scorn sighs, "Fine fine." Contrail spends most of Wreck-Gar's speech with her nose up in disdain. /Terran media/. But she happens to overhear Fusillade's comment, and she swings over closer to the bomber, and grinning in an almost leering fashion, she suggests, "Ask Scattershot what would have happened to Earth if his precious Autobots never crashed their Ark on it." Buzzsaw sweatdrops as Wreck-Garr finishes his speech and takes off. "...Well...that...was...different?" Shaking his head, Buzzsaw glances about, then chortles quietly under his breath. "Still more coherent than Cyclonus was, tho'. Stage fright sucks." As the Earth Rep announces who's up next, Buzzsaw just lets out a siiiigh, and nods at Scorn. "I'm going for some snacks. See ya in a few." Flipping about, Buzzsaw wings his way back into the stands, sharp eyes hunting for delicious snacks before he drops down onto another concession booth. Waiting for the attendant to be distracted in explaining how he will disembowel himself ritualistically if the customer does not enjoy his Space Sausage On A Stick, Buzzsaw grips claws, swings down, and snaps up an entire Petrorat-On-A-Stick like some sort of birdie ninja. Flying back towards the stands, he lands on a railing near Contrail, Fusillade, and Bluestreak to eat the 'snack'. Cassettes are kinda weird, since he also seems to be enjoying it.. Sideswipe was looking at the Con that was sitting behind Grapple and mimicking/waving like Grapple just when their Bot friend had. But upon seeing Grapple get up and move down to them, he ignored the other stupid-head Con and grinned at the mech. "Hey!" He motioned towards the seat next to him and then nearly came out of his seat when Fusillade begins yelling Nonono! at him, "Wha? I mean, does it matter really? If you've got a hole in ya, ya got a hole in ya. Either it'll kill ya or hurt like scrap!" He looked then as another Con came over. What was this...they couldn't get dates so they were trolling? First Aid has left. Bluestreak watches Buzzsaw snack on his petrorat for a little while, before snapping back to greet Grapple. "I think this has been entertaining so far. Wonder if Magnus will do a song and dance to round it all off?" He was joking- but one can hope. Tilting her gilded helm at Contrail, Fusillade hmms thoughtfully. "I... I'd be scared to. That could be amazing. Or amazingly bad. Maybe I'll wait til he's merged, that question sounds kinda involved and possibly philosophical?" She makes a show of looking overly thoughtful. "Hey, your glazier's back," Fusillade says to Contrail. Sideswipe's rebuttal gets an exasperated snort from Fusillade. "Yes. Yes it DOES matter which side the hole gets made in! I thought you were supposed to be some kind of combat genius!" Approaching the podium, ULTRA Magnus gives the human a polite nod.. despite wanting to correct him on the error in announcement. He's not a terrible repaint fan character who found quasi distinction as a background character, he's a terrible canon character who found quasi distinction by having fingers too big for the Matrix's handles. Rounding on his heel, the City Commander swivels to face the gathered crowd and take the podium. "Thank you, Galactic Committee for having me speak for the Autobot faction. Again, many thanks to your system for hosting the Olympics this year and showing everyone.." he states, staring at Galvatron. "That humankind cannot be easily extinguished, nor can their spirits be defeated by tyranny." A long pause, Magnus tries to remember his notes from earlier. "We have -all- gathered here to compete for individual reasons, either for glory or in the spirit of friendly competition; but let us not forget the aim of our truce. To further developing relations between -all- races of the galaxy, finally agreeing to abolish -all- war and embrace a tranquil period marked by its everlasting concord." There, Magnus finally got to say what he's been itching to for twenty eight years. Though Rodimus isn't here to take note. "Autobots, Decepticons, Terrans, Xetaxxans, Lanarqans, Arcadroids, Nebulons, Femaxians, Junkions.. let us all exemplify the spirit of these games!" Grapple gives a small shrug to Bluestreak. "I think that if Magnus were to sing or dance in any way, the entire viewing area might be traumatized." He then eyes Contrail and Fusillade warily, but doesn't say anything. Autobot Battlecruiser returns from one of the many bars on the grand ship, flanked by Afterburner and Strafe. Finding himself fairly close to Fusillade, Contrail, and Sideswipe, he smiles, finishing the last of his Budweiser Energon Wheat before smash the can and tossing it to the ground, where it's promptly picked up by Bottlethrottle and taken to a recycling bin. "Afterburner, you still want to jet? Contrail shrugs and deadpans, "I was just thinking you could throw his game off by pushing his buttons during your duel. Scattershot is really not fond of that Franklin Cross human. You might be able to use that against him, too." She does not seems to care if the Autobots overhear this. Let them. Scattershot unfolds into his hulk of a robot mode and lights an energon cigar he stole from Kup. Galvatron grimaces at Magnus' challenge. "Where is Cyclonus? Still exploded? I look forward to seeing him put that pig-iron-headed Autobot in his place!" Scattershot returns from one of the many bars on the grand ship, flanked by Afterburner and Strafe. Finding himself fairly close to Fusillade, Contrail, and Sideswipe, he smiles, finishing the last of his Budweiser Energon Wheat before smash the can and tossing it to the ground, where it's promptly picked up by Bottlethrottle and taken to a recycling bin. "Afterburner, you still want to jet?" Burner gives him a 'duh' look. "Alright, get Strafe outta here. He looks nervous." The two limbs scurrying off, Scattershot strides over the three mechs, nodding to Sideswipe. Cyclonus briefly lifts his head to watch Magnus end his speech on the rec room's small TV. He claps his hands once before his head drops again. Amber MacKenzie shakes her head in some disappointment. A perfect opportunity to emphasize that all the above were sapient beings, and he missed it. She sighs and applauds politely. He didn't do all that badly, but... lost opportunities. And a bad PR adviser for Earth's representative. Hmmmmm. Who picked that guy anyway? Fusillade doesn't stick around to argue in circles with Sideswipe. She perks up at a comm message, listening intently, before hissing into the comm, "Are you SURE? I haven't seen one of those in like eleventy billion years! I'll be right there!" She stands up, and nods to Contrail. "Oh, I believe it. Always good to know what particular flavor of sass to send his way." She jumps back up, and takes to the air with a click of her thrustered heels, and skims over the crowd in her haste. For the FINAL time, I promise, the Earth delegate of the Galactic Committee takes the stand.. yadda yadda.. ladder.. bead of sweat.. etc. "Now, that guy sure is something.. isn't he? I mean, come on now that was great!" the human golf claps, tucking the microphone in the nook of his arm while he does so. "Speaking of which, I don't know about you.. but I could go for a Space-Cola!" he breaks one out conviently onstage, taking a sip. "Official sponsor of the Galactic Olympics!" "Without further adieu, I commence the games of the twenty thirty three Galactic Olympics opened!" Fusillade has left. Scorn nods to Buzzsaw, watching the tape fly off before she turns back to the central podium, watching Magnus make his speech. Well, at least he didn't mess up like Cyclonus, which actually earns a few light golf claps from her. But as soon as the speech is over the Insecticon's wings are buzzing loudly and flying her to the food stands, following suit in picking up a turborat on a stick like Buzzsaw. Though she actually pays for it, surprisingly. With seared rat in hand she flutters up into the stands, spotting out Contrail among a few Bots, a sharp grin overtaking her features when she sees Scattershot in particular. "Ah, Scattershot, so good to see you again." The femme coos, still grinning while hovering around the Technobot leader, though she soon stops to hover at his side, arm resting atop his shoulder. "Eager to take part this year?" Question is punctuated by a crunch as she takes a bite of her snack. Grimlock has left. Eventually, the Janitor alien makes his way through the crowd, supporting Cyclonus on his shoulder. He walks up to Scorn, glancing once at Cyclonus before he says, "Uh, found this guy passed out in the rec room, uh... could you take care of him?" The PA crackles again. Not that it /has/ to, it's just a rather nice announcement that something's gone... a little caca. In this case, the speakers simply repeat phrases in a staggered, kinda nifty way. Including: Mysterious voice "Define people." Magnus "All Races." Wreck-Gar "Defiance of tyranny." Cyclonus... boom. Well, no-one's perfect. Scattershot just smiles as Scorn as she drops an arm on him. "You want to lose that arm, Insecticon?" He produces a cigar out of a small container. "Shame we're not in the same class out here. It'd be mah pleasure to rearrange that pretty face." He lights the cigar as the janitor approaches her with Cyclonus. "He must have smelled the scrap heap on you, Scorn. Knows where the trash goes." Contrail says, "Buzzsaw, any chance on tracing that?" Scorn is a little curious at the offer to take care of Cyclonus from the janitor, though Scattershot's comments pull her attention away for only a moment, the femme hissing softly with narrowed optics. "Hrmph... You're lucky there's a treaty between us right now, Scattershot, or that head of yours would be off your shoulders already and be my dinner." Jaw gives a sharp click at him before she finally eases off and takes up the weight of Cyclonus, albeit with a strained grunt, and carts him off with a rather enthused little smile on her face. Hopefully he won't mind a missing wing or hand. Ultra Magnus has left. Hubcap glances about. "I was expecting a little more... spectacle." He admits. "A touch of the old patriotism, some flag-waving." He waves a hand at the podium, dismissively, "Aside from the unscheduled interruptions, this was mostly drab." Then he pauses and nods grudgingly. "Although the Cyclonus thing was pretty good, just needed a better script." Combat: Wheelie slips into the shadows and out of sight... Mindwipe says, "I take it that's a 'no.'" Wheelie is here, but he's too small for anyone to notice him. :( "Yeah they could have at least taken Walt Disney out of the freezer," Sit-Com says. Impudent Fool Backfire says, "Contrail, I am a MAGNIFICENT tracer.. trust me!" Grapple has left. Misfire slowly walks out of the stadium, bumping into Hubcap. He nudges Hubcap and gives him a knowing nod as Aimless rolls his eyes. "Misfire he isn't a spy..." Misfire looks at Aimless. "Riiiiiight..." He winks at Hubcap as he walks out. Cyclonus is dragged off to suffer horrors beyond imagining! In other words, just another day in his life. Amber MacKenzie leaves her seat to wander around again. The speeches are over, thankfully. She does pause to watch Scorn go by with Cyclonus, and she rolls her eyes. Both Autobots and Decepticons, she avoids, though for different reasons. Winding her way through the throngs of beings, she approaches the ticket area to verify some reservations, both for certain events and for a room. Buzzsaw beak-clacks, and finishes the last of his delicious Petro-rat. Sighing as the speeches seem to finish, the Condor flutters away, finding a hapless Decepticon Gumbie and promptly perches on it before closing his eyes to a slit. Naptime! Wheelie appears, though in reality he's been here the whole time. But when Grimlock is no longer around to give you rides, it's hard to get noticed when you're the eternal Autobot punk-kid. Out of nowhere, though NOW HERE, Wheelie perches on Hubcap's shoulder and smiles. "What a blast, should have went fast!" he giggles. Combat: Wheelie appears from the shadows... By perch, obviously Wheelie meant piggy-back ride style. Yeah. Sit-Com looks on in horror and points. "It's the Old Man of the Sea!"